


And at first, we were strangers

by linzackles



Series: That's it? That's it. [6]
Category: Good Girls (TV)
Genre: 101 AU, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, and she had no idea why, and they both got so much more than they bargained for, because Rio was drawn to her, strangers AU, what if they just met in a bar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:54:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22336606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/linzackles/pseuds/linzackles
Summary: “You’re trying to pick me up?”“What, was I bein too subtle?”The blush heats her cheeks.“No, I just haven't been 'picked up' since... Well, ever.”
Relationships: Beth Boland/Rio
Series: That's it? That's it. [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1426429
Comments: 52
Kudos: 244





	And at first, we were strangers

**Author's Note:**

> I don't normally do AUs, but I guess the speedily approaching S3 and a yearning for the simpler times drove me to this? I just wanted to explore what these two could've been like if they never began the way they did that started a very.... complicated journey, lol. I really hope you enjoy :) [Sorry for any leftover errors, I'm working on very little sleep today!]

“Hey.”

Beth looks up then jerks back in surprise, and she isn't really sure if the shock is more because the man in front of her is attractive or because he also looks like he could snap her in two with a glance.

“H-hi.”

“Whatsup?”

Now she's confused. She'd thought maybe she was in his spot – can you reserve a spot at a bar? – or that she was otherwise in his way, but now he seems like he's trying to start a conversation.

“Um.”

But he doesn't seem put off by her inelegance.

“Can I get you a drink?”

Is he... flirting with her??

Eyes rounding, Beth shakes her head.

“Th-thank you, but I've had enough.”

“That right?” he lifts a brow, and it’s intimidating.

Sitting even straighter, she shakes her head rapidly.

“I don't want any trouble.”

He breaks into a grin and Beth gets distracted by his teeth. They're bright white and perfect, sparkling for a moment before disappearing behind amused lips.

“So ’cuz I'm Latino and got a tattoo, I gotta be lookin to start trouble?”

Her jaw drops with a gasp as she turns red.

“No, I'm not—"

“A racist?”

“Trying to say that,” she finishes with a glare.

“But you are a racist?”

“ _No_.”

He chuckles, clearly enjoying the discomfort he's causing her. She can’t believe it – can’t believe she’s even thinking about it – but she likes his laugh. It’s throaty and real, like he’s amused all the way through, not like Dean’s dry chortles.

Then he rolls his shoulders.

“So prove it then. Lemme buy you a drink.”

Beth hesitates. He's clever. And charming. Some company may not be the worst thing in the world.

And maybe she likes the way he's looking at her.

But.

“I really have had enough,” she sighs, feeling a little sorry for herself.

He seems to consider her for a moment then shrugs.

“A'ight, how ’bout somethin to eat?”

The hesitation is there, but quicker this time – she _is_ actually kind of hungry and she needs to sober up a little if she’s going to get herself home. Or at least out the door and into an Uber.

So she nods and he looks pleased with this answer, holding up three fingers at a nearby waitress.

“Three fries, please.”

She frowns. “Three?”

“We can order more later,” he nods.

Which is not at all what she'd meant, but she's distracted by him sliding in opposite her in the booth as he gestures in the direction of the waitress.

“You want anythin else?”

She shakes her head.

“…No, no thank you.”

“Hmm.”

He observes her for a while before rocking first forward then back in his seat; getting nearer to her then reclining again.

“So I'm over there, right, tryna figure you out.”

“What?” She readjusts herself awkwardly, feeling self-conscious. “Why?”

“’Cuz there ain't that many reasons people hang around here this late, and no offence but you look like you should be puttin some kids to bed somewhere.”

“Well. I have sorrows to drown.”

“Yeah? Let's hear about em.”

Beth blinks.

“You're a stranger.”

He grins like she's paid him a compliment.

“Then let's get to know each other.” He runs his tongue over his lips. “Rio.”

She hesitates, but she's gotten herself into this and besides, he's ordered food – they can't exactly go an entire meal without exchanging names.

“Beth.”

“You're really beautiful, Elizabeth.”

She doesn't know how she reacts – winces; blushes, maybe, but he catches it.

“You don't get told that often enough, huh?”

“No, I can't remember the last time my husband told me that,” she realises, and immediately all the sorrow floods back in.

He cocks his head.

“You're married?”

His gaze goes down to her finger as if to double-check, but she'd removed the wedding ring.

“He cheated on me. With his secretary. He bought her vagina floss.”

He’s surprisingly unmoved by either this revelation or the details attached to it. Maybe he just has a really good poker face.

“You just find out?”

“A few hours ago,” she nods. “I cried on my friends' shoulders, destroyed his study, and then the house ran out of bourbon.”

His gaze goes to the half-finished bourbon in front of her, probably finally realising that she really hadn't been lying. It's her umpteenth one.

Then his eyes go back to her.

“Destroyed his study?”

“I made it for him,” she nods, circling her glass with a finger. “As an anniversary gift a few years ago. It's his favourite place in the house – when he was in the house, anyway, instead of out screwing his child bride. So I took a sledgehammer to it.”

“A sledgehammer?”

She laughs a little, shakes her head. Remembers how the hurt had turned sizzling red and nothing had tempered it except for seeing everything that meant something to him decimated.

“You must think I'm crazy.”

“Naw,” he shakes his head, smiling, “I'm impressed.”

She meets his eyes for a long moment then looks away, shakes herself out of it.

They're not having a moment. He's still a stranger.

“What about you?”

“Whatchu mean?”

“That's why I'm here,” she shrugs. “Why are you?”

He reacts very slowly to the question, as if shaking out of the moment too, and then he looks around as he bites at his lip a little.

That’s when the fries come and as he’s thanking the waitress, Beth realises it’s the perfect distraction.

She won’t get an answer. And maybe it doesn’t matter, anyway. It’s so late; she should get home. Back to the debris of her life.

The waitress leaves and Rio squeezes out some ketchup and mustard then drags a few fries through both.

“I come here when I'm lonely,” he says suddenly. “And that's a lot of the damn time.”

Beth freezes, and after a second he looks up, meets her eyes.

“What?”

“I just… wasn’t expecting that,” she admits.

He shrugs then gestures at her. “Figured I owed you the truth after all o' that.”

And, yeah. She supposes she had unloaded a lot. Maybe she’d needed to say it to someone.

Maybe he needs someone to say something to.

“Why are you always lonely?”

“’Cuz the white women I try and pick up are married racists.”

She breaks into a smile, she can't help it, and his expression mirrors hers.

Then his words fully register and Beth frowns, clears her throat.

“You’re trying to pick me up?”

“What, was I bein too subtle?”

The blush heats her cheeks.

“No, I just haven't been 'picked up' since... Well, ever.”

He stares at her for a long while, till the tips of her ears are burning, and she starts eating just to get away from his gaze.

“These are good,” she notes, for something to say.

Though they are, crisp and salty.

“This your first time here?”

“Yeah.”

“Figured,” he nods.

She looks at the ketchup bottle, but before she can reach for it, he spins the side of his plate halfway around so she can get at his sauces.

“Do I look that out of place?” she asks jokingly.

She knows she does. Her main objective had been to go somewhere Dean wouldn’t think to look for her and this too-cool bar with its contrast of cave-like darkness and neon lights had perfectly fit the bill.

“Naw – I just woulda remembered you if I’d seen you before.”

She bursts into laughter even as she feels her ears burn.

“That is such a line!”

He smirks a little but shakes his head.

“I don’t do lines, darlin.”

There’s something about the way he drawls the endearment that makes her still.

Or maybe it’s the way he’s looking at her, gaze solid and certain.

She swallows then wipes her hands on a napkin.

There’s a fluttering in her stomach and she doesn’t know if it’s nerves or if it’s what’s making her nervous.

And even worse – so much worse – is the heat building between her legs at the fire in his eyes.

She’s appalled; ashamed of her own mind and body. He’s a _stranger_. She’s _married_.

But, oh god, does it feel good. The heat in her body; the heat in his eyes.

And then he speaks, low and steady.

“You wanna come back to my place, Elizabeth?”

_He’s a stranger. You’re married._

“Yes.”

The smile spreads across his face, his eyes crinkling with it. He’s very, very good-looking.

But as much as she wants to, Beth can’t linger on that because suddenly he’s jumping up and gesturing at the half-mountain of fries they haven’t managed to eat.

“A’ight, you finish up here, I’ll go settle up and order a Uber.”

Before she can make any sort of counter – like that there’s still enough left to feed everyone in the bar – he’s gone.

Nibbling at her lip, Beth decides she may as well have a few more fries. They’ve made her feel better, less empty. Less sad.

At least she thinks that’s because of the fries.

* * *

The ride to his place is short, silent and mercifully not awkward.

Rio stays on his side of the backseat, staring out the window; doesn’t try anything.

He turns his head once to look at her, though, his finger slanted across his lips, and Beth has to readjust in her seat at the weight of his gaze; the meaning of it.

It lasts less than a minute and then he looks away again, but she feels it on her still like an imprint, warm on her skin; hot enough to make her cheeks burn.

It’s only when the car comes to a stop that she realises she’d only caught that because _she’s_ been staring at _him_ the entire time without even realising, and she’s so embarrassed that she resolves not to look at him at all anymore, including when he helps her out of the car and thanks the driver; when he throws open the door to his apartment building and gestures for her to go first.

She takes the short staircase slowly, because though she feels much better than she usually does when she’s drank this much – as if the anger had burned off some of the alcohol, and she’s not convinced that isn’t the case – she’s still not exactly well-coordinated.

Trying desperately not to wobble, Beth finds herself wondering if he’s looking at her ass. Wondering if she wants him to be looking at her ass.

Finally they make it to the top and Rio directs her to his front door.

He lets her in here first, too, and Beth walks in with wonder.

It’s so… light. And filled with colour. And art. Colourful art. She hadn’t been expecting that from such an enigma of a man dressed head to toe in black.

“You have a lovely place,” she feels forced to say.

He gives her a weirdly amused look and she realises it’s something she’d say visiting a PTA mom’s house for the first time.

God. Is there a limit to how many times she can embarrass herself tonight?

Quickly looking away, Beth takes in the room some more and her gaze lands on his bed – right in the middle of the room, no walls. It makes her heart speed.

Suddenly there’s a hand on her lower back. He’s close. Touching her. She can feel his cool breath across the tops of her cheeks.

“You want anythin?”

He’s looking at her, brow raised, and Beth swallows hard.

“The bathroom.”

Nodding, he shows her to it, and Beth spends a good minute and a half just staring at the woman in the mirror, asking her what the hell she's doing.

Two wrongs don't make a right, but she's not doing this for vengeance.

Why is she doing it?

The answer comes too easily: Because she wants to.

Because she hasn't done anything selfless in longer than she can remember. Because Rio makes her feel lit on fire – god, just his hand and his breath still have her skin tingling – and it’s a brand new feeling she doesn’t know what to do with.

Forcing herself into movement, Beth starts fixing her hair and makeup, removing any mascara smudges.

Does she smell ok?

Seriously, how do people do one-night stands?

She opens the bathroom cabinet in the hopes that Rio’s the kind of person who has so many that there’ll be some kind of woman’s perfume or deodorant somewhere.

No such luck. What she does find is a car-shaped toothbrush, for a kid.

He has a child?

Beth makes herself blink hard, get herself together.

Anything about him outside of this night has nothing to do with her.

Except that only brings with it a flood of anxiety because – god, god – is she really about to sleep with a stranger? Is she about to cheat on her husband? Is she about to share a part of her she’s never shared with anyone but Dean?

And that last one gets her; sends steel down her spine.

Because she’d given him everything. Her life, her children, the body of her youth, her virginity, her love. Everything she’d had, she’d shared with him, and he’d taken it and run. Went to find someone else’s youthful body.

She opens the bathroom door, ready, and then nearly jumps back.

He’s holding a gun.

Beth doesn’t make a sound, survival instincts kicking in to suppress the squeak of fear she desperately wants to make.

But, getting over her initial shock, she realises he’s in front of a safe.

She watches as he pulls out a stack of money then puts the gold gun inside. He locks the safe then disappears from her line of sight with the money.

Beth shuts the door again with her heart in her throat.

Who the hell _is_ he? Who has that kind of money; a gold gun? And then there’s his tattoo, the one he’d said _didn’t_ mean trouble, and her embarrassment had caused her to naïvely let it go.

Maybe she’d even started liking it; it suits him. She’d forgotten to question _why_ it suits him.

But.

Anything about him outside of this night has nothing to do with her.

She repeats this in her mind a few more times before taking a deep breath and exiting the bathroom.

He turns from where he is in the kitchen, doing some dishes.

It’s stupid but, despite what she’d just witnessed, that gets her. Something so normal and domestic. Something that doesn’t compute with a dangerous tattooed stranger who has a safe full of money.

So she speaks before he can.

“Do you have bourbon?”

He looks her up and down, considering, clearly remembering her saying she’d had enough to drink tonight, but then nods.

She nods too, grateful, then takes a long deep breath as she heads over to his couch and he goes about making her the drink.

She sits very still, perched on the edge with her hands in her lap.

She needs the drink because her head is still whirling with questions. She wishes she could call her sister, but how would that phone call even go? _Annie, how do you have a one-night stand?_ God.

Rio smirks when he brings over her drink, noting her straight spine and general unease.

“Do you do this a lot?” she blurts. Then, realising how interrogative that sounds, she rushes to add: “I don’t do this a lot.”

He doesn’t answer, smirk only widening as he holds out her drink.

“Bourbon on the rocks.”

She takes it, too distracted by him sitting to form a thank you. He’s close, on the edge of the seat right next to hers.

His scent wafts over her and it’s magnetic. She finds herself wanting to touch him, wanting to get past the hard exterior of his denim jacket.

She remembers thinking he could snap her with a glance. She feels that’s truer now than ever. She feels so _soft_ in her blush-pink blouse and rounded everything. He’s all darkness and hard lines, and even though he’s brought her here, the contrast still makes her feel insecure somehow.

“Why did you come over to me?” she asks stiffly, breaking the silence. “I'm not exactly... your type.”

He turns to look at her and she realises he’d been merciful before, keeping his eyes off her. Now his gaze, so incredibly close, makes her want to crumble under its intensity.

“You looked—"

“Like a challenge?” she accuses.

“Interesting.”

She shakes her head. “I'm not interesting.”

It comes out small, soft, and he comes a little closer; echoes it.

“Naw?”

Their knees are touching now.

And no, she isn’t. She’s a suburbia housewife who’d been replaced by a skinny twenty-something blonde.

“No,” she scoffs. “I’m a cliché.”

“I don’t think so.”

His eyes are so deep, she wants to drown in them. Wants to tell him everything. Wishes he already knew it all.

“You don’t know me.”

His lips curve up a little.

“Still strangers, huh? We really gotta change that, mami.”

Before she can answer, he’s taking the untouched bourbon out of her hands.

A quick breath escapes her lips as he leans to set it down on the coffee table then is somehow closer when he returns.

His hand lands on her leg then slowly moves higher till it’s on her thigh and then she has to spread her legs a little, breaths heavy. 

He cups her through her jeans and Beth can’t believe how just his light touch can feel so goddamn good.

Then he looks at her.

Their eyes meet and it takes her breath away because she knows this is it. After this there’s no turning back. And she doesn’t want to.

He comes closer, until she can feel his breath on her face again, and then suddenly she’s stopping him, panicked realisation in her throat. 

“I haven't kissed another man in 20 years.”

It’s never felt strange – now it feels alien; stupid.

And she feels nervous – what if she’s not a good kisser? What if she’s not good at any of this?

Rio smiles simply.

“Guess it's about time then, huh?”

He waits for the hand on him to retract – and she does, slowly pulling it back off his jacket – before moving again, and for whatever reason she thinks about the first time Dean had kissed her. In a movie theatre, right before the movie started. Rushed and before she’d been ready, when she’d been turning to grab her soda.

Then Rio’s lips are on hers and she doesn’t think about anyone but him.

She falls away into the kiss, hands coming up to feel his beard as she opens for him and he pulls her closer, moans a little around her tongue.

He presses a finger against her and Beth whimpers, her entire body waking with it. She wants to touch him, wants him to touch her.

Her hands feel dumb as they reach out to remove his jacket, but somehow they manage, and he retracts his hand from between her legs to allow her. Then he reaches for the buttons on her blouse, breaking the kiss.

She whimpers in involuntary complaint and then he presses against her to kiss down her neck as he opens her blouse. Eyes fluttering closed again, she thinks about how much she loves his mouth on her.

Her perked nipples brush against his T-shirt through her bra and Beth moans under her breath, her neck falling open wider for him. Then his lips slant over her ear.

“Tell me whatchu like.”

For a second she thinks he means what she likes about what he’s doing, but then he pulls back to look at her, waiting for an answer, and Beth freezes, eyes wide.

“I-I don’t know.”

She’s never had to think about that while with someone before, and she doesn’t know how to translate what she likes doing with her vibrator to what a stranger should do with her body.

She doesn’t say any of this aloud, but the look he levels her with makes her think he understands anyway.

Then he stands, jerks his head.

“C’mon.”

It’s just a few steps to his bed and when he starts removing his shoes, so does she. She follows his lead till they’re both in their underwear in the middle of his apartment, and she feels so exposed.

Beth’s never had to repress any urge as hard as the one to cover her body right now – nobody besides Dean and her children have seen this much of her in decades. 

What makes it worse is that his body is still just as angular – hard and toned – and perfectly golden, too.

The majority of her skin hasn’t seen sun in– god, she doesn’t know how long.

Then he's kicking his jeans out of the way and stepping in to kiss her, hard; so hard she almost falls back. He catches her with one hand on the small of her back as the other grabs at the line of her panties. He yanks it down and Beth pants, helping him.

But he doesn’t stop kissing her once it’s at her feet, just pulls her closer and slides his hands around to her bra.

It snaps open quickly despite the double set of hooks, and now Rio backs up to take it off her slowly, reverently, eyes trained.

Biting on her lip, she holds out her arms and finally the bra slips off her, her breasts landing heavily.

Rio lets out a rush of breath then takes his lip between his teeth.

“Damn, I been thinkin about these all night.”

She swallows, not sure what to say, but then it doesn’t matter because he’s wrapping his hand around her left breast and squeezing. His head dips too, but with a whimper she grabs hold of his neck and pulls him back to her lips. They moan into the kiss and Beth doesn’t think she’s ever been this turned on before. She wants him to touch her everywhere.

She nips at his lip and Rio groans before pushing her back. Their lips barely part as he gets her on her back on the bed. She likes his weight on top of her, can feel how hard he is.

But when he pulls away it’s just to kiss down her chest, to lick her nipple into his mouth. Beth whimpers, her hand going into his neck as he sucks. God, she’s so wet already.

But he keeps going and eventually she has to stop him with his name on her lips.

“Fuck,” he moans, “I could do that all night, ma.”

“I need you inside me,” she shakes her head.

It’s crass but so true. She can feel the length and girth of him and there’s nothing else she can think about, already clenching.

Rio pulls back, biting his lip into his mouth as he watches her with that same intensity in his eyes, but now there’s something else there and it’s not lust; not just lust.

Then he gets off the bed.

“Get on your knees.”

She hesitates, throat going dry at the words, but he doesn’t wait, going over to his bedside table and retrieving a foil wrapper.

Swallowing, Beth jerks her body into action then grabs pillows to lean over against as her knees and forearms press into the bed. 

It’s a few seconds of her blood rushing in her ears before finally he’s on her again, hand running up inside her thigh. It makes her shiver and she hears him lose a breath.

Then his other hand is on her hip, holding her steady, and Beth’s fingers twist into the sheet an instant before he slides into her. Her whimper is high, shrill, and his hiss is almost as loud.

“Fuuuck, Elizabeth.” 

And, yeah. She doesn’t know if she’s ever been this wet before. He’s holding still and she already feels wrecked.

Then he starts moving, pressing in deeper before pulling out, and Beth can’t help clenching.

He groans, fingers digging deeper into her, before pushing back into her, rougher. She tries to meet his pace, and their bodies are so loud as he keeps slamming back into her, but she can’t find it in herself to be embarrassed – maybe he’s just not leaving space for anything else.

She can barely breathe, sweat beading on her top lip, by the time he slips out and doesn’t push back in.

“Turn around,” he says, voice gruff, and it takes her a second.

To get her breath back, to get her sanity back.

He starts helping her and then she finds herself on her back, staring up at him.

There’s something wild in his eyes now and she knows it’s reflected back in hers, the hunger for him feeling bored into the very fabric of her skin.

He gets on top of her and she feels him against her, but he doesn’t press in – instead his fingers find her clit as he trains his eyes her.

She wants to say _no_ , but god if he doesn’t make it addictive in seconds, and Rio hums his encouragement above her as her back arches.

“Tell me if you like it, mami.”

Her head’s thrashing as he speeds up, presses harder, and she bites on her lip to distract herself; to access her vocabulary.

“Just don’t stop,” she finds a way to breathe out.

There's a smile on his lips when he kisses her, long and lazy like he isn’t busy rubbing her into oblivion.

“Oh,” she moans out. “ _Oh_.”

Her body’s busy tightening up, stomach spasming, when he bites into her neck and she comes with a long sound from the back of her throat that only gets higher when suddenly he pushes back inside her, and he’s kissing her now, too, sucking her skin into his mouth, and the dots around her vision are multiplying.

It feels like heaven, like she’s dead and he’s everything she’s gotten for every good thing she’s ever done. His movements are getting more erratic, her walls clenching around him as her orgasm keeps going, snowballs, and then he’s coming too with a guttural growl as both their fingers dig deep into each other’s skin.

Beth thinks she’s going to be hurting for days.

Finally everything seems to unclench, leaving space for the aftershocks, and Beth realises he’s still inside her. Still on top of her.

Her body rocks with the shivers even as she revels in the feeling of him and his body in her and on her like this. It feels right in a way it shouldn’t.

Then he pulls out and Beth whimpers the loss before he rolls off her.

She hears their quick breaths in the quiet room and it dawns on her that this is the most insane thing she’s ever done in her life.

The most insane, best thing.

Her whole body feels sore and yet something inside feels less hurt; less damaged.

She’s trying to figure out what the hell that means when he gets up, disappears into the bathroom, and it only takes a few seconds for doubt to roll in like a dark storm.

Is she supposed to be gone when he gets back? Is that how it works; is that what people do?

She panics for a second then realises that she has no idea what people do, but she _does_ know she doesn’t really have a choice in the matter because her body is still immovable.

When she hears the bathroom door shut, though, she manages to crawl the few inches that allows her to drape a part of the sheet over the important parts.

Rio hops back onto the bed naked and before Beth can even fathom saying anything, he’s kissing her, hand on her jaw unyielding; the pressure of his lips against hers almost bruising.

He pulls back with gleaming eyes.

“Fuck, if you didn’t tire me out so damn much, I’d take you again.”

It makes a shiver run down the length of her body and she stares back at him, speechless.

“You know what you like now?” he pops a brow, a bit of a smirk playing at his lips.

 _Yes_ , she wants to say. _You._

She clears her throat.

“I guess so.”

He snorts lightly before kissing her again, hand running up under the sheet to thumb over her nipple.

She pulls away, can’t handle more of him.

“Stop.”

He doesn’t stop, just lets his hand lower as he watches her. Over the jiggle of her stomach, over the scar there, over the stretch marks on her hips then landing between her thighs.

“Your body’s so damn sexy,” he breathes, like he’s in awe. “Imma dream about it tonight, I know it.”

She sucks in a breath then presses up to kiss him, bites his lip into her mouth then sucks on it.

His hand slides around to her ass and squeezes hard.

He’s breathing hard when she pulls away and Beth feels satisfied by the look in his eyes, the reverence.

“That was _definitely_ a line,” she quips.

He lets out a laugh, the throaty one, and now she _knows_ she loves it.

He goes to settle on his side of the bed and Beth watches him sling one arm behind his head as he stares up.

God, even his profile is striking. She can’t believe _he’d_ just called _her_ sexy.

Beth finds herself getting a little closer, because the bed is huge and a little cold, honestly. But she can’t take her eyes off him.

“What are you thinking about?”

 _The game tomorrow_ was a common answer of Dean’s. There’d been a time in her life when she thought he’d been joking.

“Just that I think you gonna be one o’ those.”

“One of _those_?”

He jerks his head into a nod. “One o’ those fuckin girls my boys gonna be rippin me apart weeks from now for not bein able to stop thinkin about.”

Beth swallows dryly.

What is there to say to that?

Worse still, why is it that she believes him?

Any other man and she’d think it was a line, no matter how much he promised that he didn’t ‘do’ lines.

But there’s something about Rio that makes her believe every word that comes from his mouth. Maybe it’s his unwavering confidence; maybe it’s that she knows it doesn’t matter because she’ll never have to see him again anyway.

But she doesn’t think it’s either.

“Condom was good,” he informs her suddenly.

Oh.

He’d checked; made sure there weren’t any leaks. It’s weirdly considerate, something she hadn’t even thought of.

“…Thank you.”

“Uh huh.”

But that’s not where her mind is, and she can’t pretend.

“Can I ask you something?” Before he can answer: “Promise not to freak out?”

He smiles a little before turning to face her.

“Yea.”

“Do you think… it’s possible to… fall in love in one night?”

 _Love_. God.

Had she ever been in love with Dean? Not a single bone in her body is sure. And after everything terrible that had happened today, that’s the scariest thought of them all.

Rio’s expression is blank as he seems to consider this.

Then he shrugs a shoulder.

“I think a lotta shit in this world’s possible. Just look at us here right now – ’bout an hour ago you wanted nothin to do wit’ me.”

There must be astonishment on her face because he raises a curious brow.

“What?”

“…You didn’t freak out.”

“You said not to.”

For the second time tonight, she wonders who the hell this man is. Why he is everything she has never known.

“You wanna go to sleep now?” he asks, casual.

Casual.

She nods, even though she’s not ready yet.

But she lets him turn out the light, watches him get settled on his back again, staring up at something that’s not there.

There is something about him that’s so full of life, so all-encompassing. She doesn’t remember seeing a single other thing tonight after he’d walked into her field of vision.

But here, now, like this, there’s something… desolate about him.

“You _do_ do this a lot, don’t you?”

Again he doesn’t answer, but she hadn’t really been expecting him to.

“Does it help you feel less lonely?”

Her voice is quiet in the dark, yet she can see it bounce off his expression; off the highest points of his sharp cheekbones and perfect lips.

And again his answer is slow in coming.

“…Naw, not really.” He looks at her. “Not usually.”

Her heart clenches in her chest and Beth doesn’t know what this is, doesn’t know what to do with any of it.

She shouldn’t have asked and she definitely shouldn’t ask anything else, but she wants to understand how someone like him can be lonely.

_Anything about him outside of this night has nothing to do with you._

“Since we askin questions: You gon’ leave him?”

The question hits her squarely in the chest because, that’s right, she’s married. Her husband had cheated on her. The wrong still exists, even if it doesn’t feel like an elephant on her chest anymore.

She thought two wrongs weren’t supposed to make a right.

But here he is; here they are.

So, so right.

_I think a lotta shit in this world’s possible. Just look at us here right now_

“I don’t know,” she answers honestly. At his gaze, half-confused and half-judgemental: “We have four children, all under the age of thirteen.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

She wants to ask him how many children _he_ has, but she’s scared he won’t answer; scared he will.

Though it’s stupid, just as stupid as so many other things she’d still believed when she’d woken up this morning.

Because she’s not supposed to know anything else about him, isn’t supposed to take any real part of him away with her – but that’s most naïve of all, isn’t it? Because she can’t leave behind the way he’d touched her; the way he’d fit inside her like a puzzle piece and made her feel a million things she didn’t know she could.

“He’s an asshole,” Rio spits, displeased.

“Yeah.”

What else is there to say? Once again, Dean had thought about Dean and Dean only, and now she’s left to clean up the mess for everyone.

“You want me to kick his ass for ya?”

She giggles, only half in surprise.

“…Can I get back to you on that?”

“Hmm.”

Suddenly he moves a little closer and Beth freezes.

Rio reaches out and with a single finger moves a little of her hair away, off her face. She doesn’t know why, but it makes her stop breathing.

The side of his finger just barely brushes past the side of her face and she shivers a little, eyes closing for a second.

“Still think you a cliché?”

She sucks in a breath. Opens her eyes to looks at him; look around. Remembers the safe; the gun.

Everything they’d done.

“Not exactly.”

He smiles, pleased, and Beth feels something rise inside herself that’s this almost unbearable mix of relief and gratitude – and, she thinks, joy.

“Rio.”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for coming up to me tonight.”

Maybe he can already read her too well, because his smile is crooked; soft.

“I was right. You are interesting.”

She smiles too and now it is a moment; she couldn’t convince herself otherwise this time if she tried.

Staring at him, she wonders what he'll be like in the morning.

Will he even be there? Will he offer breakfast or coffee; be warm and affable? Will he be cold; unknowable?

Will they be strangers again?

Like most things today, Beth doesn't know.

“Goodnight, Rio.”

“Night, Elizabeth.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm kind of thinking of maybe expanding this a little bit more, what do you guys think? Would you be interested in that?


End file.
